View From A Bridge
by Psamathe
Summary: Alex follows a ghost as she tries to find a way home. Some Gene/Alex
1. Chapter 1

A/N The lyrics used are from 'View from A Bridge' written by Ricky and Martin Wilde.

_I guess it all began about a year ago_

_Like a cheap love magazine_

_You know the kind you read about and have to laugh_

_At the pages in between._

April 1982.

Nothing had changed.

Music drifted through the flat. Downstairs, the boys from CID were having a spot of lunch. Pouring another glass of wine, Alex tried to ignore the noise from the restaurant below. She guessed that Chris had been the one to persuade Luigi to swap Italian opera for Kim Wilde.

A calendar still dominated the walls of the flat, augmented with details of the life Alex Drake had been living and the connections she had made. Not that her analysis had made any difference. She hadn't been able to stop her father blowing her mother to kingdom come. Alex had spent weeks afterwards trying to work out what she had done wrong, but deep down she knew that her father had been the one piece of the equation that she had failed to account for. She had made contact with her mother but had neglected the quiet man who wanted to hold his family together. His image, dressed as the clown still haunted her.

Every night she stared at the wall, trying to make sense of this world, trying to find a way out... until the wine ran out and she passed into merciful unconciousness.

A2A2A2

"Molly!"

It wasn't the first time that Alex Drake had woken up screaming and she was sure that it wouldn't be the last. In this world, trapped by her own psyche, she was prone to nightmares. But this one... this one had been more intense than any of the others.

Crawling out of the sweat sodden sheets, she staggered through to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Instinctively, she glanced towards the television, but there was nothing on the screen apart from static. She'd taken to leaving it on a night, just in case... This time she felt that the nightmares had another source. Ever since she had witnessed a child's body being pulled out of the Thames, Alex's dreams had been haunted by visions of Molly. The killer would go before a jury in a week and she was hoping that his conviction would give her some form of closure.

She certainly couldn't go on this way. Her colleagues were starting to notice that her mind wasn't on her work. Although the Guv had been uncharacteristically understanding, his patience was wearing thin. It wasn't just her work that was suffering, she was starting to spend less time in Luigi's, preferring her own company and a solitary bottle of wine. She'd spend hours staring at the television set, hoping for some kind of message but the clown hadn't made an appearance. Were her dreams caused by the impending court case, or was there a more sinister reason?

Molly. She was safe in Evan's care. Or at least that was what Alex kept telling herself. If her theory was right... if she was that one second away from life or death ... then nothing could happen to Molly in that second. When Alex got home it would still be Molly's birthday. There would still be time to blow out the candles on the cake.

But a small worried voice at the back of her mind kept asking the question, What if she were wrong? If everything here was important then her dreams had to have meaning. And if they did there was nothing she could do to help her daughter.

Screaming with frustration, Alex hurled her glass against the wall, watching as it shattered. Time froze. The pieces of glass hung in mid air. Walking forward, Alex brushed one with her fingertips, hissing with pain as the shard dug into her flesh. Fascinated she watched a drop of blood form.

Moving to the window, Alex looked out across London. Nothing moved. The city was silent. London was never quiet. Even at two AM there was always the faint roar of passing traffic, the occasional yell and laughter from the street outside. Then she saw it, the child standing outside, looking up at her window.

"Molly!" Alex gasped.

Molly's eyes met hers chilling her very soul with their contempt. Then she turned, as if she thought that Alex wasn't worth haunting, and walked away down the street. Alex couldn't have said why she decided to go after it but one moment she was staring out of the window and the next she was pulling on her boots and running out into the road.

"Wait!" she yelled, knowing that the frozen city couldn't hear her shouting.

But Molly didn't stop, she didn't even pause, just kept on walking. And Alex followed not getting any closer, not lagging any further behind. Molly's measured pace seemed to eat up the ground, never slowing, never tiring. However fast Alex ran, she couldn't catch her. She wanted to give up, to go back to bed but somehow she couldn't shake the feeling that this was important and that Molly was actually going to show her something useful. Alex couldn't say how far they walked and she was too busy concentrating on keeping her daughter in sight to recognise the darkened streets. Her feet were starting to hurt and the night time chill was starting to seep through the thin silk of her night-shirt. This was crazy, she realised. She wasn't even sure that she could find her way back.

As the thought crossed her mind Molly vanished and the sounds of the city returned. Alex Drake found herself alone, standing on a bridge in the centre of London, wearing nothing other than a night shirt and a pair of heeled boots. She could still hear the song that had been playing in Luigi's

_You know the kind you read about and have to laugh_

_At the pages in between._

_Now I can't believe that fool inside is me_

_'cos I just can't face the world I've grown to see._


	2. Chapter 2

Somewhere in the distance Alex heard Big Ben strike... once... twice... three times. She hurried towards the sound, hoping to find herself somewhere familiar. Despite having lived in London her entire life, the place seemed suddenly alien. The tubes had stopped running for the night, and she had no money for the night bus. With luck she'd be able to find a black cab and sweet talk the driver into taking her home. She pulled the thin material of the shirt around her body in a futile attempt to keep out the worst of the cold. Although it was early April, there was a hint of frost in the air. Alex wished that there was somewhere she could go, but even an all night cafe would expect her to buy at least one cup of coffee. Passing a phone box, she wondered if there was anyone who would take a reverse charge call. Evan would have driven out to get her without a moment's thought, but Alex knew that she had burned her bridges there. She hadn't seen him since he'd taken her younger self away. This early in the morning her colleagues were all probably nursing their respective hangovers and she doubted that Gabriel's horn would raise them. So she kept walking.

There were still a fair number of people about, but their numbers were rapidly diminishing as the night dragged on and the night club crowd found their way home. Alex felt distinctly self conscious as she walked amongst them. Even for 1981, her mode of dress was drawing attention. Of course if she'd been wearing white stilettos, green tights and a yellow rah rah skirt no one would have taken a blind bit of notice...

More than one car slowed down as it passed, but Alex refused to make eye contact with any driver. There was one, however, who seemed to be more persistent than the rest. The car drove past her several times before the driver stopped. Alex didn't. Despite the fact that she could barely feel her feet, she started to walk faster, her eyes darted to the right and left as she scanned the area for a possible escape route. It was only as she heard two car doors slam that she realised that there was more than one man.

Breaking into a run she took two steps and found herself sprawled on the pavement as she tripped over an uneven paving stone. Her knees hit the cold concrete and putting her hand to her leg she felt the wet traces of blood. Fallen she might have been but Alex was dammed if she was going to let them take her without a fight. Rolling onto her back, she kicked one of the men full in the chest. Whilst he was staggering backwards, she grabbed the legs of the other man and gave a tug, pulling him to the ground. It was only as he fell that she realised her miscalculation. Alex didn't manage to get out of the way in time, and found herself trapped beneath him.

"Easy," the man warned as she struggled beneath him.

Alex screamed as loudly as she could, hoping that someone would hear her, but if anyone was around they chose to ignore her cry for help. The man she had kicked was now standing over her, there was something almost familiar about the way he was looking at her and she didn't think that it had anything to do with sex.

"Put the tom down, Evans," he sneered.

It took several seconds for his words to filter their way through her panic. By the time they did, the pair of police officers had cuffed her and were pushing her into their car.

"Wait... wait!" she gasped. "I'm a police officer!"

"Of course you are love... and I'm the Dalai Lama," Evans smirked.

"You're still under arrest," the other man said.

"I work for Gene Hunt…"

"Hunt? Oh this is going to be good. A prossie for the 'Manc Lion'."

"I'm Detective Inspector Alex Drake..."

"Shut up!" the man spat and for a second Alex thought that he was going to hit her.

She realised that nothing she could say or do would convince these men that she was anything other than a prostitute. It seemed that Gene Hunt wasn't the only dinosaur in Jurassic Park and they were determined to arrest her for something. At least it was warm in the car and when they got to the police station, she'd be allowed to make a phone call.

But she'd figured without the second man, DCI Daniels. A poker thin man who seemed to have had his sense of humour amputated at birth, whereas her own Guv could be described as an annoying git, Daniels was an evil bastard. Alex had to wait two hours before she was allowed her call and only after she'd submitted herself to the indignity of having him personally search her person. Taking a chance she called the Station, hoping that Hunt had decided to go to work early. She was intensely relieved to hear his voice.

"Bolly? That you? I hope you're not calling in sick."

She explained. There was a moments silence before he started to laugh.

"Glad I'm not the only one who thinks you dress like a bloody tart."

"Could you send someone to get me, please?" Alex asked through gritted teeth, glancing up at Daniels who was eavesdropping.

"You seem to be forgetting something, love," he said, "The only place you're going is to the cells."

"Is that DCI Daniels' dulcet tones I hear?" Hunt asked. There was no longer any laughter in his voice.

"Yes," Alex replied.

"Sit tight, Bolls, I'm on me way."

She put the phone down, reassured for the first time since this nightmare had begun.

"Come on," Daniels said as he grabbed her none too gently by the arm.

"Get your hands off me," she spat, but his reaction was to grip her that much tighter.

Alex knew she'd have a few bruises before this was over. Daniels bent closer to her, and she felt herself gag as his bad breath assaulted her nose.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking that big bad Gene Hunt is going to come to your rescue. You're not the first prossie he's had in his bed and you won't be the last," he hissed.

"If I were a prostitute, and if I wanted to sleep with someone, I would rather it was him than an impotent cuckhold whose attitude is bigger than his penis."

Alex knew that she'd made a mistake as soon as the words left her mouth. As such, she managed to roll with the blow that came her way, but her fast reactions didn't stop it hurting... nor did they stop her eyes watering so much that it almost looked as if he'd made her cry. Furious beyond words, she brought her knee up sharply, but he jumped back out of range before she could make contact. Unfazed, Alex brought her stiletto heel down on his foot. Her actions gained her another smack in the mouth, but she was happy that she'd managed to inflict some pain.

"Get her out of here," he ordered. "And I don't care if she gets damaged on the way."

Despite appearances to the contrary, this wasn't the first time Alex Drake had found herself locked in a cell. A misjudged protest during her student days had led to a few hours detention as her Majesty's pleasure. She and the rest of her group had been released without charge, naive in their belief that they had taught the establishment a lesson. This time she was scared, vulnerable and counting the minutes until Gene arrived. Although no one else had physically hurt her, she didn't feel safe... even with a locked door between herself and the DCI. He, after all, had a key. Her body was starting to react to the events of the past few hours, and she desperately wanted to sleep, but she didn't dare. It wouldn't take Hunt long to arrive... not in the Quattro. At least that was what she kept telling herself. She wasn't wearing a watch, but her internal clock was telling her that it had to be almost nine. Gene would have to drive across a grid locked London. All she could do was wait, sat on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chest as she counted the seconds.

"You banged up my DI"

"She assaulted a police officer!"

"I'll assault you in a minute if you don't open the bloody door!"

Alex's eyes snapped open as she recognised the Manchurian accent. She scrambled to her feet, pulling her night-shirt down in an attempt to make it look longer. The door opened and Hunt took one look at her before removing his overcoat and tossing it too her. Alex slipped it on gratefully, glad that she could finally hide her body from prying eyes. She braced herself for the expected lewd remark but to her surprise none was forthcoming.

"Smack herself in the gob, did she?" was all Hunt asked.

"She was resisting arrest," Daniels said, not sounding the least bit apologetic.

Hunt took a step closer to the other man, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"We both know that isn't true."

"And there's nothing you can do about it."

Alex knew that Hunt's next move would be to pound the other man into the concrete and she found herself averting her gaze. Part of her wanted Daniels to get what he deserved, whilst another just wanted to get out of there. She closed her eyes and waited for the sickening thud of flesh on flesh, but to her surprise it never came. His eyes fixed on her face, Hunt was backing down.

"Come on," he muttered, grabbing Alex's arm and steering her out of the cell.

"I can see why you want to keep that one close, Hunt," Daniels shouted after them. "Since your wife left it must be a change to have something to shag at the weekends."

"Why you little shit!"

The next thing Alex knew, Hunt had let go of her and had Daniels pressed up against the wall, his hand at the other man's throat. Daniels was choking but he still had a shit-eating grin on his face. He was deliberately provoking Hunt, Alex realised, and getting Gene fired or arrested was probably top of the agenda. Alex wasn't about to let that happen. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn't want to see her DCI brought down in flames.

"He's not worth it, Guv," she said, quietly.

Resting her hand lightly on his arm she ran it down his forearm, entwining her fingers with his and guiding them away from Daniels' neck.

"Manc Pussy," Daniels muttered.

Alex kept Hunt's hand firmly grasped in her own, the physical contact preventing him from retaliating. She could tell by the tension in his muscles that Hunt didn't want to be the one to walk away from this. He would see it as a sign of weakness and Alex doubted that she could ever persuade him that by not fighting he was being the better man.

"Give her one from me!" Daniels yelled after them.

Something inside Alex seemed to snap. She had been slapped, groped and generally abused by this nasty little man. It was about time that he got a taste of his own medicine. Without even thinking about it, she turned and drove her fist directly into the smirking man's face. Not satisfied with drawing blood, she reached down and grabbed him by the balls. Giving a savage twist, she pushed him backwards and stood over him as he writhed on the ground in agony.

"Listen to him whining like a girl," Hunt smirked. "Never mind Daniels, give it a day or two and you should be able to feel your gob again... not sure about the rest of it though."

Nobody dared stop them as they left the station. Although her knuckles were bruised and sore, Alex couldn't help feeling a certain sense of satisfaction as she limped towards the Quattro.

Hunt was uncharacteristically quiet as he drove her home. But judging by the way he was driving, she realised that she'd managed to piss him off yet again. Sooner or later he would demand an explanation. but Alex had no idea what she was going to tell him. She had got herself into trouble by chasing ghosts. Now, in the cold light of day, her body twisted and aching, she couldn't think of a good reason why she had folloed the image of her daughter halfway across London. Looking as herself in the wing mirror, she could see the bruises starting to form. Gingerly she touched her face.

"Not such a pretty sight now, eh Bolly," Hunt said.

"I've had worse," she replied, thinking of the real world and the bullet that was currently speeding towards her head.

"You were lucky. Daniels is an unsavoury bastard. The rest of us are amateurs when it comes to him. There are lines, Drake and he's crossed most of them."

"I got that impression. Has no one reported him?"

"I tried."

"And that's why he hates you?"

"Or it might be because we thrashed their darts team under the inspired leadership of yours truly."

She had the feeling that there was more to the story, but that Hunt was unlikely to offer more information without a few drinks inside him and Alex made a mental note to ask him some other time. There was no glossing over the fact that he was a violent man, but it was reassuring to find out that he did have some limits. She knew that she'd been lucky. Her night time adventure could have ended up a lot worse... a lot worse. She'd seen enough brutalised corpses to know what could have happened out alone on the streets. If Hunt hadn't turned up when he had she was certain that a couple of slaps weren't all that could have happened in the cells.

"Thank you," she said, quietly.

He grunted an acknowledgement.

"And I'm sorry," she added.

"Then perhaps you'd like to tell me what the bleeding hell you were doing?"

"I was... following a lead."

"Do I need to repeat my lecture about keeping secrets from me?"

"No Guv."

"Good. I would hate to add memory loss to your list of annoying attributes."

Alex didn't reply. She didn't have the words to explain what had happened and he seemed satisfied with a simple apology. All she wanted to do was get home and take a long hot bath.

"Come on," Hunt said as he opened the door for her.

"You don't have to see me to the door," Alex replied.

"By the way you're walking I should be carrying you up there."

He was right about that. She could no longer block out the pain and the best pace she could manage was a slow hobble. Hunt walked right along side her, ready to offer a strong arm should she need it. Although Alex managed to get inside the flat by herself, she sat down on the couch as soon as she was inside. To her surprise, Hunt knelt down at her feet and it was he who gently eased her boots off. Her feet were a bloody mess. Add that to the grazed knees and the bruises on her face...

"Stay there," he ordered.

At that moment Alex couldn't have moved, even if she'd wanted to. Her body just didn't want to go anywhere else. Even the sound of Hunt banging around the flat didn't spur her into action. He could have been in her underwear drawer and she wouldn't have cared less. When he came back, however, it wasn't with a handful of her knickers. He had a steaming bowl of disinfectant and a roll of cotton wool.

"You don't have to..." she began.

"Shut up," he replied so Alex did as he asked, letting him attend her various cuts and scrapes.

The only sound she made was the occasional hiss as the disinfectant stung her wounds. He was gentle. That was what surprised her the most. His touch, sure and firm, but he didn't hurt her.

"Now get some sleep," he told her when he'd finished, not unkindly. "And I don't want to see you until tonight... Luigi's. Raymondo's paying."

"Ray?" Alex laughed.

"He just doesn't know it yet."

Hunt saw himself out and Alex locked the door behind him. Despite the bright sunlight outside, she pulled all of the curtains shut. She didn't want any excuse to look out of the window again. Only when the flat was in darkness did she head towards the bathroom and her longed for bath but the hot water did little to wash away the memories or give her peace of mind. She was scared, she realised. Now that she was alone, she was finding it impossible to get the image of Molly out of her head. Rather than relaxing, she was growing more and more agitated. Getting out of the bath, she wrapped a towel around her and limped through to the living room. The television was on.

"Guv?" she called out, even though she knew that he was long gone.

As she expected, there wasn't any reply. She moved to turn the set off, only to freeze when she noticed the picture on the screen. The clown was singing,

_And like a fool I just stood there and let it go -_

_I should have fought right back and let my feelings show._

His image was replaced by Molly, her mouth moving soundlessly but Alex could read lips well enough to work out that her daughter was saying,

"Mummy, help me!"


	3. Chapter 3

_You sure as hell knew how to make a fool outa me._

_Well you cut me down for the things you want_

She was really starting to hate that song. An extra thick layer of make-up and the dim lighting inside Luigi's was enough to hide the bruises on her face... or so Alex hoped. She still felt somewhat self-conscious as she stepped into the restaurant. The usual crowd were there, but try as she might, Alex couldn't spot Gene Hunt. Taking a seat by the bar, she hoped that he'd show his face soon. Alex wanted nothing more than to retreat back to the comparative safety of her flat, but she wasn't going to do that until she had seen Hunt and reassured him that she was still alive and following his instructions. Her life here, such as it was, wouldn't be worth living if she didn't.

"Guv's gone for a slash," Ray's voice slurred in her ear.

Alex glanced at her watch, it was later than she thought. Late enough that Ray was well on the way to being drunk. She thought that, if she ignored him, he would stagger back to his corner but given what Shaz and Chris were currently doing, she didn't blame him for staying away. Ray sat on the stool next to her and ordered another beer.

"Give 'em another ten minutes and I'll throw a bucket of water over 'em," he muttered.

"They're sweet. Leave them alone," Alex laughed.

He was like a child who had lost his favourite toy and Alex didn't imagine that Shaz was planning to give Chris back anytime soon. Ray's blue eyes turned to her, focusing with some difficulty.

"Glad it's not you and the Guv. Now that really would make me puke."

"Excuse me?"

"He fancies you... and you've been giving him the come on ever since you arrived."

If Ray hadn't been drunk, Alex would have seriously considered pulling his moustache out hair by hair. That or his perm.

"In case you haven't noticed we spend most of our time screaming at each other," she said, trying to remain the voice of reason.

"There's a thin line between love and hate if you catch my drift," Ray winked at her. "I think it might be lust."

She knew that Gene wanted to get into her pants, but that was probably about as far as his tender feelings ran. Alex fully expected that sooner or later, in this world that she had created, that she and Gene Hunt would end up in bed together, but she had never considered him imaginary boyfriend material. More like an imaginary one night stand that she would regret in the morning... All she could think about was his slightly overweight form pounding her into the mattress. She'd lie back, think of England and in five minutes it would all be over. He wouldn't even take his socks off.

"Saying that, if he just wanted a shag, he'd have done it by now. He's got right poofy since you got here. He used to be a real bloke's bloke," Ray droned on.

A more 'blokey' version of Gene Hunt didn't really bear thinking about.

"He hardly farts at all now. Bloody birds breaking up the team."

Ray was getting morose and Alex realised that she should probably leave him to his beer.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said, patting him on the shoulder.

She drained her glass and stood up.

"Going somewhere, Bolly?"

Alex turned to find Hunt standing behind her and she felt herself blush as she wondered exactly how much of the conversation he had overheard.

"Just to get some air," she replied lightly.

"Right I'll get me coat."

"What?"

"Call me fussy, but I'd rather not be woken up at some ungodly hour to get your arse out of jail."

He was looking at his feet and not at her. Alex chanced a glance at Ray, but he seemed more interested in his empty glass than what was going on around him.

"Okay," she said.

"Right."

Feeling slightly bemused, Alex followed Hunt outside and towards his beloved Quattro. He opened the door for her and gestured inside.

"I thought you might prefer somewhere a bit quieter," he explained.

Curious as to his intentions, and what Gene's idea of somewhere quiet might be, Alex complied. They drove out of town, stopping at a small pub down by the river, the kind of place Alex might have visited in 2008. This was actually nice, she realised, as she sat outside, watching the play of moonlight on the water. Gene wasn't saying much. He didn't seem uncomfortable it was just... something that Alex couldn't define. She knew Hunt was lonely sometimes.

"Do you ever see that... how did you describe him... Thatcherite wanker?" he asked suddenly.

"No," Alex shook her head, laughing "I think you frightened him off."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Let's just say, he knew where to put it but not what to do once it got there."

Hunt snorted with laughter.

"You want to get yourself a proper bloke, Bols," he said, bringing back to mind Ray and his ridiculous theory and Alex had had just enough wine to question Gene.

"Ray said the most bizarre thing earlier," she began.

"What about?"

"You."

"Really? And what did Raymondo have to say about yours truly."

"He reckons that you have a thing for me."

"A thing? Define a thing?"

Alex took a sip of her wine, trying to work out if he was being deliberately obtuse.

"Apparently you fancy me," she said, wondering why she had even started this conversation.

"It's nice to know that my DC's mind is rooted firmly in the playground. Perhaps he was hoping for a game of kiss chase later."

"Apparently, Ray thinks I'm turning you into a girl."

"Right, I'll smash his face in next time I see him. That should change his mind. Anything else?"

"Forget it."

Draining her glass, she set it down on the table. She didn't know exactly why she was getting so angry. For all of her training she often had a hard time analysing her own feelings. All she knew was, for some reason, he was annoying her.

"It's getting late," she told him, "I'll meet you by the car."

"Alex..."

He caught her hand as she was about to stand, surprising her so much that she stayed in her seat. She had often thought that Gene Hunt was terrified of women and he certainly looked as scared as she had ever seen him. Alex lent forward, propping her head up on one elbow, suddenly feeling that she were back in control.

"Yes?" she questioned, the challenge evident in her tone.

"What's the bloody point," she heard him mutter half to himself.

Before she had a chance to ask him what the hell he was talking about, Gene had closed the distance between them and pressed his lips against hers. Alex felt herself tense at the unexpected kiss. Soft, tentative, the sensation was nothing like she'd expected. And she certainly didn't expect to lean into the kiss. In that second, she finally realised how scared of this he actually was...

"Mummy help me!"

The scream seemed to echo around her head. Alex pulled back sharply.

"I'm sorry..." she stammered.

"Bolly!"

But she didn't hear his call. In her mind's eye she saw Molly, Layton's gun held to her head.

"Mummy!" the child screamed again.

The gun fired. Gene's arms were around her as he struggled to keep her from falling but the darkness called and Alex let herself go.

A2A2A2

"Alex... Alex... come on, wake up."

There was a gloved hand lightly slapping her face but she didn't want to wake up. She wanted to stay in this safe, warm place where she didn't have to face the reality of what was happening to her or the fact that Molly was in danger. Alex was convinced that there was more to her visions than the simple fact that she was suspended between life and death. The events were happening right now, in the real world, and there was nothing that Alex could do to get back there. Moving feebly, she tried to push the hands away and get up.

"No you don't," the gruff voice told her.

Alex forced her eyes open. She was sitting in the Quattro, Gene Hunt leaning over her.

"Here," he said, shoving his hip flask into her hand.

She took a small sip. Whiskey. Hunt's universal panacea.

"You all right?" he asked.

"Yes... yes... I just didn't eat much today."

It was an excuse that he would believe. He was always ranting about how skinny she was... Alex suddenly found herself wondering what he'd make of 2008 and the size zero culture.

"Right then... We'll stop by the chippy on the way home," he told her.

Alex found herself smiling as they drove away. Feeding her was something he could cope with. True to his word, he drove her to the nearest fish bar, bought them both cod and chips and then complained about the consistency of the mushy peas. There was something comfortable about this, she realised. She didn't have to be anything ... anyone other than herself with this man. There was nothing to hide, he'd already seen her at her worst. Closing her eyes, Alex let her head fall back against the seat. She had often wondered at her subconscious for throwing up this particular construct, but now she wondered if at some level, Gene Hunt wasn't necessary to her survival. Was fighting with him somehow symbolic of her fight for life? Yet every time she fell, he seemed to be there waiting to catch her...

"Bols?"

She opened her eyes, they were back at Luigi's. The way Hunt was looking at her, she could tell that he was about to make another pointless enquiry about her health. His concern was touching but for some reason it was making her uncomfortable. He cared about her, that much was now certain. For once in her life, she had to agree with Ray. If she were just an itch that Gene Hunt felt he wanted to scratch, then they would have done it by now. Intellectually Alex knew that getting emotionally involved with her imaginary constructs was dangerous. But the longer she spent here, the more difficult she found it to remain detached. They were all very real to her. Friendship was one thing, but this...

She wasn't going to stay, not here, not in this world. However intense this fantasy might be, it was no substitute for her real life with Molly. She didn't know if it was her own heart she was protecting or Gene's, but Alex realised that she had to end this now.

"Goodnight," she said more abruptly than she meant to.

"I know how to show a lass a good time. Snog her till she passes out, then take her for a fish supper... bloody marvellous," he muttered as she got out of the car.

"About that..." she began, hating herself for what she was about to do.

He was staring straight ahead, not looking at her at all and Alex realised that he knew what was coming.

"Yeah... best forgotten about, eh?" he said, cutting off any gently worded let down.

"I think so."

"Right then ... See you."

Alex barely managed to get the car door shut before the Quattro roared away. She climbed the stairs to her flat slowly, suddenly exhausted. One day, he'd thank her for this... or so she hoped. He'd find himself some nice plump blonde, big breasts, no brains who would shag him often enough to make him happy for the rest of his life. Or at least until Alex went home and this world disappeared. But there was an annoying little voice in the back of her mind was wondering who she was to judge who or what Gene Hunt wanted. She was so preoccupied as she walked through the door that it took her a couple of seconds to realise that the TV was on and that the clown was staring out at her.

"Poor little Greenie," it teased as it smiled.

"Why don't you just fuck off," she swore as she moved to switch off the set.

But before she could complete the operation the picture changed and Alex found herself staring into her daughter's terrified eyes.

_"And now it's killing me,"_ the clown's voice said.

"Tell me what I have to do!" Alex heard herself shout at the set. "Tell me damn it!"

_"But then a voice said jump and I just let go and I'm floating out in space._

_But then I feel your arms and I turn around to a ghost without a face_."


	4. Chapter 4

Going into the office the next day was hell. Alex knew that she looked like shit but after another sleepless night there was little mak-up could do to to hide her weary appearance... that and the bruises. They were more obvious now than they had been the day before and she felt very self conscious as she walked through the room towards her desk. The whole office seemed unnaturally quiet and Alex found herself wondering if they'd all been talking about her a moment before she'd walked in. No one was looking in her direction and Shaz was typing away at a speed that was unlikely and probably inaccurate. There was a stack of paperwork waiting, and Alex intended to put her head down and get on with it. Gene was in his office. He looked up briefly as she approached, before turning back to his computer and what she was sure was an enthralling game of Pong. She found herself unable to read the expression on his face and his neutrality was disturbing.

Paperwork forgotten, Alex decided that a cup of coffee was in order before she faced her co-workers and she walked straight past her desk and through to the kitchen. There was nothing more than dregs left in the pot but she poured them into a mug and sipped them gratefully.

"Ma'am?"

Alex turned to see Shaz hovering nervously by the door.

"I could make you some more if you'd like," the younger woman said.

"This is fine," Alex replied.

Shaz looked over her shoulder, back into the main office, as if she was worried that someone would disapprove of what she was doing. She took a hesitant step closer.

"What is it, Shaz?" Alex asked.

"Your face, Ma'am."

Touching the bruises, Alex allowed herself a rueful smile.

"I'll be fine," she said in what she hoped was a reassuring tone.

"It's just that..." She paused again.

It was sweet that Shaz was so concerned but at that moment Alex wanted to be left alone to drink her foul coffee and gain a measure of composure.

"Just that what?" she prompted, hoping to hurry Shaz along.

"Ray said you left with the Guv last night, ma'am. Did he do that to you?"

"What!"

"Ray said that you deserved to be knocked about a bit."

"Is that what he thinks? And what did our glorious leader have to say?"

"He didn't say anything, Ma'am. He hasn't said a word to anyone since he got in. That's why we figured the two of you had had a fight."

It took Alex a good thirty seconds to process the information. Making sure that her voice was loud enough to carry to the idiots who were probably eavesdropping in the next room she said.

"Shaz ... the Guv didn't hit me. He didn't lay a finger on me. We had a drink, he drove me home. End of story."

Of course that wasn't quite true, but Alex had told the other woman all that she needed to know and Shaz looked somewhat relieved at the explanation. As for the rest, it certainly wasn't something that Alex felt like sharing with the likes of Ray. She'd find a way to get her own back. DS Carling would find some very unpleasant tasks coming his way.

"Good, I'd have hated to think that he... well... you know."

"Believe me, Mr Hunt can be a perfect gentleman." Alex reassured her. "He's all mouth and no trousers that one."

"What? He's got a small..."

"No! I mean I don't know I've never seen it but..."

Alex paused... it would certainly explain the Quattro. Without meaning to, she started to laugh. If only the psychoanalysis of Gene Hunt were so simple. He was her own construct. She could imagine his bodily parts any way she damn well wanted. Shaz, unable to share the joke, was looking at Alex as if she'd lost her mind.

"I'm sorry... sorry..." Alex gasped as she tried to regain her composure.

"Well... as long as you're all right, Ma'am."

Shaz backed out of the room, no doubt going to tell Chris that DI Drake was having yet another funny turn. Alex didn't particularly care what her colleagues thought of her. The important thing was to dissuade them of the notion that Hunt had been the one responsible for her bruises. After tipping the remains of her coffee down the sink she returned to her desk and the paperwork, but she found herself increasingly distracted by the sight of the Guv's closed office door. The longer she stayed away from him, the more likely the rumours were to spread. She gathered up a few sheets of paper, making it look as if she had an official reason and knocked on the door. He gave a grunt in reply and she took that as a signal to go in. She carefully shut the door behind her.

"Guv?" she ventured a little nervously.

He had a tape playing quietly in the background. Kim Wilde... again.

"Something I can do for you DI Drake?" he asked.

"I just wondered... " she began.

"If I was okay? If I was crying my little heart out? Listen sweetheart, I've been knocked back by classier birds than you... and I've had classier ones an' all."

_"And I just don't know what's fact or fantasy_

_'cos when I look below the bridge I see it's me."_

The music was intrusive and Alex made a move to switch it off, but somehow Hunt got there before her. He turned the volume up. Alex slapped his hand away from the control.

_"View from a bridge, can't take anymore. View from a bridge, can't take anymore."_

The same line over and over, as if the tape was caught in a loop. And it wasn't Kim Wilde... not anymore. The clown's voice. Alex clamped her hands over her ears. Why was he doing this? What was he trying to tell her? In her mind's eye Alex saw the gun held to her daughter's head, Arthur Layton laughing. He may never have met her, but Molly was Tim Price's granddaughter. Was it possible that, this time, the Clown's intentions weren't sinister? Was he trying to help Molly by offering Alex a way out of here?

"Bols?"

The anger was gone from Gene's voice and all she could hear was concern. But he didn't need to be worried about her, not anymore. Suddenly she knew, she knew what the Clown wanted her to do. Save Molly, save herself... get home. She couldn't stop smiling. Turning towards Hunt, she took his face in her hands and placed a tender kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," she whispered before she turned and left him.

Alex only said four words as she walked through the office.

"Ray you're an arsehole," she smiled sweetly.

She went down to the river, to the place where her vision had led her. Standing on the bridge overlooking the dirty heaving mass of the Thames, Alex Drake turned her face to the sky. It was raining. A dull, grey drizzle that looked set for the day. She let the drops of water run down her face and she marvelled at the sensation. So real... so, so real. In the distance she heard a police siren, the squeal of tires on tarmac. So many sensations, but nothing strong enough to keep her here. Closing her eyes, she jumped.


	5. Chapter 5

Water was running down her face... no not water. Something warmer, more viscous.

She opened her eyes. For a second everything looked red, that was until she wiped the blood out of her eyes. Alex was lying in the bowels of a boat. Cold, dank, she could smell the river close by. There was something ... something important that she had to but for the moment she couldn't remember what that something was. She'd been shot. In her mind's eye she could still see the bullet speeding towards her. One second to live... one second to die.

How could Layton have missed? He'd definitely left her for dead. Groaning, Alex sat up. There seemed to be some very large gaps in her memory.

Arthur Layton had been talking to someone on the phone, that much she remembered , someone who hadn't given into his demands. Alex realised that Layton had been using her to get to someone and it hadn't played out the way he'd wanted so he'd shot her. Would he try again? A different target. A...

"Molly!" The word was torn from Alex's throat with a scream.

Layton had seen her daughter, he knew what she looked like... He could have been watching as she left with Evan. Desperation forced Alex to her feet. The blood from her wound was still flowing so she knew that she hadn't been shot that log ago. There was still time. Her body, however, was refusing to co-operate. She could barely manage to place one foot in front of the other.

Alex paused when she reached the walkway across to the river. She needed to stop, just for a minute. Somehow her vision was overlaid with another picture; no Millenium Dome dominating the opposite bank, Adam and the Ants, a red car speeding towards her. With a violent heave, she bent over the railings and threw up. After she had emptied her stomach, Alex felt herself slide down to the floor, too weak for the moment to move. It felt like her pulse rate was slowing. What was happening? Blood Loss and resultant shock she could understand, but her heart beat would be rising not falling.

But making the connection was irrelevent. It didn't matter; she had to get to Molly. However, ignoring her physical symptoms was easier said than done. She knew her car wouldn't be where she had left it, Layton would have seen to that. If he had her car then he could get to her house... to Molly. She had to find a phone... warn someone.

The streets in this part of London seemed sparsely populated. Those she did meet hurried past averting their eyes. The wound on her forehead had started bleeding again and she could feel a warm trail of blood winding its way down her face. And it hurt ... no wonder that no one wanted to help her, they probably thought she was some kind of crazy woman. Her vision was fading again, the brightness of the Sun washed over by a green radiance. It was like looking through water. And it was cold, so cold... icy fingers were drawing the strength from her body. A phone box appeared in front of her and Alex lunged towards it not sure that she could even make it the call. As she did the sun seemed to shine again as if she had broken through some kind of barrier and resurfaced.

With numb fingers she dialled 999.

"This is DI Alex Drake," she told the operator.

They wanted verification, some proof that she was who she said she was and Alex found herself cursing at the time they wasted. They sent a car to her first and ignored her request to go straight to her house. Even when she had shown the officer her badge, he still hesitated, wanting to take her to a hospital rather than to a possible crime scene. It was only with extreme effort that she managed to keep her tone calm and reasonable. Talking to him, reassuring him... making him believe that her decision was the right one.

It seemed to take them an age to get across London. Alex found herself growing more and more angry with the delay. She found herself willing the man at the wheel to put his foot down and send the car screeching through the London Streets. At one point she was convinced that they were driving in completely the wrong direction, as if her home wasn't where she expected it to be. The pain in her head was growing more severe by the hour but Alex knew that she would have to grin and bear it... at least until Molly was safe.

"We're here ma'am," the driver said eventually, turning around to smile at her.

She couldn't quite place his accent; London with a trace of something else. He was a tall, sandy haired young man and Alex suspected that he thought her barking mad. He couldn't have been out of uniform long, she judged. He made her feel old.

"Looks like there's a car outside already," he added.

"Yes... It's mine," Alex replied.

Layton hadn't even bothered to remove the light from the top of the car. He'd probably driven here with the siren blaring and no one would have thought to stop him.

"Don't you want to wait for backup?" the police officer questioned as Alex got out of the car.

"No."

That bastard was in her house, with her little girl and there was no way that Alex was going to wait in the car for the guys with the guns. She fished her keys out of her pocket as she crossed the street but she had no idea what she was going to do when she got inside. The young police officer followed her radioing for back up as he did so.

"What's your name?" she asked him.

"Tim," he replied.

Her father's name. It was just a coincidence but the name evoked emotions that Alex didn't want to deal with right now. Without another word, she handed him a key and signalled that he should go round to the back door. She realised that it would be good to have him there just in case her non-existant plan backfired.

Alex was having trouble breathing she walked up the steps to the front door, the pressure on her chest seemed intense as her fear for Molly's life increased. She found herself clinging to the fact that Layton wouldn't be expecting Alex to walk in. Moving as quietly as she could, she eased open the front door. Layton was here, she felt his foul presence wash over her as she stepped into the hallway. The odour of unwashed clothes and stale sweat was unmistakable but where exactly was he? Then she heard it... the whimper of a frightened child. Muffled though the sound was, it was something Alex had been atuned to every since she had given birth.

"I'm coming, Molly," she whispered.

Tim appeared from the other direction. He shook his head, indicating that there had been no sign of anyone at that end of the house. Alex pointed upwards. Taking the lead, she crept up the stairs.

They were in her bedroom. She could see them through the slightly open door. Evan was on the bed with Molly huddled at his side. He had his arms about her, shielding her from Layton. Alex moved closer to the door, hoping to see exactly where the gunman was but she understood her mistake as soon as she became visible to the two on the bed. Neither of them were able to hide their reactions. Molly's face broke into a delighted smile as she realised that her mummy had come to save her.

"Who's there!" she heard Layton shout.

The door swung fully open, he stepped into the hallway and Alex found herself staring into the eyes of the man who had tried to kill her. For moment they both froze, but she recovered a second before he did. Right cross, left hook... it was a tried and trusted combination. Even though she didn't knock him down, the force of her blows was enough to send him staggering backwards. Hurting him was worth it, Alex decided, even though her knuckles hurt like hell. But she had reckoned without Molly. Instead of closing in for the kill, Alex found herself staggering backwards as the child launched herself off of the bed and into her mother's arms. The distraction was all Layton needed to regain control of the situation. Once again she found herself looking down the wrong end of his gun.

"On the bed," he ordered.

Cradling Molly close, Alex did as she was asked and Evan put his arm around both of them. The door to the room was still open wide and Alex had to fight the urge to look in that direction. She had no idea what had happened to Tim but she hoped that he was lurking out there somewhere and not back at the car waiting for his precious back up.

"I already told you, you can have the money," Evan told Layton.

"It's not enough, not anymore," the other man spat.

"I'll give you everything I have. Just let them go... let both of them go."

Layton's eyes were fixed on Alex and he barely seemed to hear Evan. Unable to look at him directly, she couldn't quite work out what he was seeing.

"How can you be here, Alex Drake?" he asked. "How can you be here... and there."

He certainly wasn't making any sense.

"Where?" she asked. "Where was I?"

"Shut up! I remember now. You were there."

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex could see the gun wavering as his hand shook. She didn't dare ask any more questions. The wound on her forehead throbbed as she recalled her close encounter with the last bullet the gun had fired. She hugged Molly tighter, twisting her body to that her little girl would be protected if Layton decided to shoot. Before she could complete the action, Layton had crossed the room and dragged the child out of her arms.

Molly screamed. The barrel of the gun was pressed to the little girl's forehead ... and Alex was hard put to remember exactly what happened next.

Without thought of her own safety, she lunged towards Layton only to realise that someone else had got there first. Tim must have slipped into the room at some point but, with her eyes averted, Alex hadn't seen him enter. Closer to Layton's height and weight, the young police officer had no problems in knocking the other man to the ground. The gun fired and Molly screamed again but the bullet embedded itself harmlessly in the wall. Tim wrestled the weapon from Layton's hand and slid it across the floor to land at Alex's feet. Bending down, she picked it up and checked the load. Still bullets left. Her arm rose of its own volition. She had a clear shot, it would be so easy to end his life. Part of her wanted to. Layton had tried to hurt her daughter, had tried to kill Alex and she wanted revenge, to let him feel the fear.

"Alex?" Evan's quiet exclamation made her hesitate. He was looking at her with something akin to horror on his face. He had never seen her with a gun before and Alex found herself wondering if he realised that the girl he raised was capable of killing people. And she wanted to kill Layton so very badly.

"I'll tell her everything!" Layton was screaming.

Tim had him pinned to the floor. Outside Alex could hear the wail of sirens. Her moment had passed.

"Get him out of here," was all she could say.

She sat down on the bed, the pounding of her heart was making it difficult for her to breath. If felt as if someone was repeatedly thumping her chest. Dimly, she could hear Evan talking to Tim, but his voice seemed to be coming from a long way off. There were officers bustling all around but no one seemed to be taking much notice of her.

"...I think I knew your father," Evan was saying.

"He was a police officer too so you may well have done, sir," Tim replied, politely but his attention seemed to be somewhere else and Alex realised that he was staring at her.

She put her hand to her head, to the oozing wound. Molly was there at her side, dabbing gently at the cut with a ball of cotton wool.

"We should get you to the hospital, ma'am," Tim said.

He held out a hand to help her up but as she took it Alex felt something akin to an electric shock dart through her body and she fell back onto the bed. Molly leaned over her, pulling at her hand in a futile attempt to get her to rise. Alex felt her body convulse, once, twice, three times then she retched, water flowing from her mouth and staining the bedcovers. Except she wasn't lying on a bed...


	6. Chapter 6

_But then a voice said jump and I just let go and I'm floating out in space._

_But then I feel your arms and I turn around to a ghost without a face_

... she was lying on concrete coughing her guts out and throwing up water. Someone was there with her, keeping her on her side so that she didn't choke or suffocate. Her clothes, her hair, her boots... everything was soaking wet. And then Alex remembered and she knew who it was who had 'saved' her. Weak though she was, she tried to fight him, tried to get back to the river. For a few brief, hours Alex had been home. She'd experienced the transient sweetness of holding Molly in her arms only to have it ripped away from her.

"Don't you dare," he yelled, pulling her into his arms.

God he was strong. However much she hit, kicked or scratched him, his grip never faltered. He held her close until her strength failed and all she was able to do was cry, a dead weight in his arms. Then, by brute force alone he manoevred her into his car. Alex slumped in the seat, refusing to speak or to look at him as he drove her home. She made him carry her up the stairs, knowing that she had left her bag behind at the river and had no keys. Such trivialities didn't bother Gene Hunt. He kicked in the door to her flat and it was only the splintering of the wood that brought home to Alex how angry with her he was but the knowledge only served to increase her own frustration. He had no idea what he had taken her away from. His very ignorance should have aroused her sympathy, but it didn't.

In her mind the decision to jump had been a rational one, but she acknowledged that it wouldn't have seemed that way to someone watching from the outside... or the inside... For some reason, her damaged mind wanted to keep her here. Perhaps the fight with Layton had served to exacerbate her condition and the bullet had caused a more serious injury than she'd realised. In the real world, Alex believed that she was still lying on her bed and Molly was trying to get her to wake up. All these thoughts ran through her head as Gene dumped her on the sofa and moved further into the flat. Vaguely, Alex heard the sound of water running. Within moments he was back scooping her up in his arms again as he carried her through to the bathroom. The shower was running and the water was already hot enough to steam up the mirror.

"Get your kit off and get in," he told her.

Alex stood there, unable to move.

"Unless you want me to do it for you, get your arse in that shower and get yourself warm. You've got five minutes then I'm coming in to get you."

He waited until Alex placed reluctant fingers on the buttons of her shirt, before stalking out of the bathroom. She noticed that he didn't shut the door completely, waiting just outside it, his form silhouetted against the light. His eyes might have been averted, but Alex still turned her back as she followed his instructions. The hot water did little to alleviate the chill. True to his word, Gene banged on the door when her time was up and she reluctantly turned the water off. Wrapping a robe around her body, she pushed the door open and stepped out of the bathroom

"Better," was all Hunt said.

Alex chose to ignore the fact that he was still soaking wet from having dragged her out of the Thames or that he was shaking with cold.

"I think I'd like you to leave now, Mr. Hunt," she said.

"So you can have another go at doing yourself in? I don't think so."

"I slipped."

"Of course you did."

"Get out."

"No chance!"

She found herself taking an involuntary step backwards, trying to shield herself from his anger. Recognising her fear, his expression seemed to soften slightly.

"Get some clothes on, while I go and see if Luigi can rustle us up something to eat," he said not unkindly.

Alex knew that the few moments' privacy he had given her were precious but she didn't know what to do with them. Leaving crossed her mind, but she found herself wandering aimlessly around the flat. There had to be another way to get back. Something more permanent. Hunt had been the one to drag her back here, she would have to make sure that next time... next time, he wouldn't be able to revive her. There were knives in the kitchen, sharp knives. Almost without thinking she picked one up, testing it's weight and strength. She ran the blade along her thumb, hissing as it cut her flesh. It was certainly sharp enough. Alex found herself staring at the knife wondering if she could actually do this. Even in this imaginary world she could still feel pain and this would hurt... a lot.

She was shocked out of her reverie by the sound of a glass breaking as, for perhaps the first time in his life, Gene Hunt dropped a full bottle of wine. His large hands covered hers as he twisted the knife out of her grasp. Alex gasped in surprise as she found herself pushed back against the nearest wall in his efforts to get her away from the sharp implements. This time she saw real fear in his eyes.

"Let me go," she hissed, hating the fact that she'd been caught. If anything he gripped her tighter, holding her hands above her head, blocking her body with his own.

"You're hurting me," Alex sobbed and he released her hands, placing his on the wall either side of her.

"Don't tempt me," he spat.

She couldn't tell how long they stood like that, close enough to touch and yet...

"I didn't ask you to save me," she whispered, "I didn't want you to."

"I know, but I 'ad to."

His words were softer now and Alex found herself fighting to keep the tears from her eyes. One of his hands moved to her cheek and she leaned into the caress wondering how a man who was capable of such unspeakable violence could be so gentle.

"You can't keep me here, Gene. I have to go home, I have to see my little girl again and... sooner or later... one way or another...I'm going to leave."

Gene stepped back, withdrawing his hand and the comfort it offered.

"I can't hang around you all the bloody time in case you try to top yourself."

"Gene?"

"I don't want you to go anywhere!"

"You can't stop me."

"Maybe not, but..."

He stopped mid-sentance, shaking his head.

"But?" Alex prompted, refusing to be intimidated by the glare he was sending in her direction. He had no right to do this, she decided, no right at all. There was no way he could understand what was at stake.

"You don't get it, do you"

"Get what? Explain to me "Gene" ?"

She wanted nothing more than to laugh in his face, but something stopped her. His eyes were raw with emotion.

"I love you, you daft cow," he whispered.

Turning his back, Gene walked out of the flat. And Alex didn't try to stop him. He didn't mean it... he couldn't. Left alone, she could take the necessary steps to get herself back to Molly... why then was she hesitating? It wasn't supposed to be like this. God help her.

To distract herself, Alex started to clear up the mess the shattered bottle had made, but she had the feeling that the wooden floor would always be stained by the red wine. Like blood. Her blood. Walking to the window, she looked at the world outside... the world her mind had created. Gene's car was still there. He was standing next to it, hands braced on the roof, his head bowed. As she watched he searched his pockets for his cigarettes, throwing them away in disgust when he found them water logged. He looked up at her window but Alex didn't think that he could see her. Gene was giving her time, she realised. Then he would come back and make sure that he was the one to find her.

Imaginary construct or not, her heart went out to him. He looked broken.

What had Gene told her? 'I was needed and I was there.' Had she needed him to pull her out of the river? She hadn't told him where she was going or what she was about to do. How had he known where to find her?

Was she really supposed to stay in this world for a while longer? Remembering the pain she had been experiencing in the real world, Alex was starting to wonder if now was the time to go home. She'd been shot in the head. Although still alive, the bullet had caused some damage. Perhaps the fact that Gene had saved her had been her psyche's way of saying that she needed to give her body time to heal. Alex closed her eyes, finally accepting that there would be no quick exit. Out in the real world Molly was safe and there was nothing else that Alex had to do apart from get herself well again. She wasn't giving up but she realised that she wouldn't be hugging her daughter any time soon. Someone else would be helping Molly blow out the candles on the birthday cake.

Alex opened the window and leaned forward.

"Gene," she called.

He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a second she thought she saw tears.

"Bolly, do you realise that you're flashing your tits to half of London?"

THE END

A/N Just wanted to say a huge thank you for all of the reviews.


End file.
